


Midnight Walks

by AQuietThinker



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Artificial Intelligence, Comfort, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Midnight walks, Nightmares, One-Shot, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Spider-Man: Far From Home, Sad, Sad Peter Parker, Self-Blame, Tony Stark Has A Heart, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:20:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24484981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AQuietThinker/pseuds/AQuietThinker
Summary: “You are lying, Peter.” said the A.I. “Your heartbeat has spiked again, and you probably would not be so terrified at the moment.”“I guess you're right.” he mumbled, staring out into the vast darkness ahead.“I’m always right.”The reply send a small chuckle up his throat.“Tony didn't cut back on your sass, did he?”“Mr. Stark dedicated the best part of four years to create me for you, Peter.”OrPeter has a nightmare with Quentins horrid psychological maipulation and decides that a midnigh walk is the best cure.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 22
Kudos: 71
Collections: Peter Parker Stories





	Midnight Walks

**Author's Note:**

> Hello you beautiful and unique snowflakes (if you get my inverted reference)
> 
> I recently (during a much needed two hour break) rewatched Far From Home and knew I needed to pay my tribute via a small one-shot. If the tags are wrong, sorry.
> 
> Just few notes; I don't know how compliant this may be with Endgame, I haven't watched it in a long time. Also, who else agrees that Tom Holland makes and excellent Spiderman?
> 
> (So sorry i'm posting this at midnight)(I'm sleep deprived)
> 
> Also! This fic is based on a scene from Big Hero 6!
> 
> Lastly I wanted to add that I have a huge support for the Black Lives Matter movement and strongly believe that people should be as involved as possible. I am not American, but have lived there and experience how flawed the system can be in regards with racism. If there is anyone here that does not believe that everyone should be equal, do me a favour and go re-evaluate your morals.
> 
> Stay safe everyone.

Everything is pitch black until it isn't.

He’s choking. There green smoke everywhere, and he can't find the source. Everything is blurry. But still so, so dark. He can’t see anything but bile green, at it's under his mask, under the red suit-

 _Fake, fake, please-_ His suit is gone, he is in clothes… not his. Everything is spinning… disappearing except for the wretched smoke, the gas-

He can hear the echoing laughter of the man he once trusted, and he wants to rip his ears off.

Or eyes for the matter.

When he finally finds himself capable of grasping in the flood of gas, everything flips, crashed into a different dimension his brain can't register.

Peaks of glass pierce him, blood _fake fake fake_ runs down his chest and now he’s underwater, clutching at his throat desperately. There a collar on him, a muzzle. He is drowning.

_Stop, please… fake… Mr. Stark!_

He can see the crystal surface, mocking him, he’s dying, he’s-

His vision blurs and he lands face first in a room, a place. It's a cell. He’s in a box, crystal box. Its real _fake_ it's too real and he wants to die more than anything.

_What are you doing, loser? Thought you would be dead by now._

Its Ned, but its not Ned. It's the same smiling, nerdy best friend, but his stare is cold, bullying, it hurts hurts hurts so damn-

_Why would I ever accept this, Parker? Did you actually think I liked you?_

He got MJ wrong, for her hair is in a tight bun and her appearance resembles that of a model, and she’s laughing at him, but not in the MJ way, it's not her.

One by one people appear outside the cell, the blurry, yet perfectly clear cell- Happy, May, students, teachers, they taunt him, laugh with no expression and he’s on the ground, covering his ears, _make them stop, please, its fake, fake, fake, FAKE!_

They kick him, throw him, his nose cracks, his bones creak, there's blood everywhere.

There are no tears in his eyes but his heart is breaking with trillions of small, connecting cracks everywhere. If only Beck would only rip it out, out out out, take him out of his goddamn misery, enough illusions, he just wants to-

_I should have known better, shouldn't I?_

That voice.

_No, please no, anyone but him, not the one man that…_

He lifts his head and the smoke is gone, his blood is gone, everything is gone except for his shaking, pathetic ass on the ground and a multi-billionaire looking at him. His eyes are deep red, with no anger, no sadness, just… disappointment.

_The one chance I give you, and you blow it Parker._

He tried to reach out in a whimper, but the polished shoe stamps his fingers on the ground.

_Shut up._

_I’m sorry, sorry, it's fake, Mr Stark! Please, it's an illusion, its…_

_For fuck’s sake, Spider, be quiet._

_No, no, no, please-_

Peter jostled awake, eyes wide open and small beads of sweat running down his temples. He felt frozen in place, his whole body covered in a thin film of sweat. His eyes palpitated along with his skull, but it takes him a full ten minutes to swing off the bed and carefully maneuver his way to the door.

He was able to fetch a scarf from his desk and take one final, if not apologetic, glance at the two sleeping forms of the room. MJ was curled tightly against a pillow and breathing softly, and Ned was stretched out, limbs sticking out of his sleeping bag. The edges of his lips twitched with a phantom smile. He was in no lack of support, but the nightmare still haunted the sleep out of him.

He slipped out of the recently re-modeled apartment with no difficulty, breathing in the AC of the hall and pressing the buttons of the elevator. Peter could easily swing out of a window and web his way through the rooftops of the city, but something in the back of his mind insisted he take a route by foot. There was no elevator music, just piercing eyes, and his fingers unconsciously traced the many dents and imperfections of the iron box he knew well. After five years of near abandonment, the whole apartment building seemed ready to collapse with dents and leaking faucets. However damaged, or whatever offers Pepper gave him, both May and Peter refused to leave and preferred to redecorate.

The teenager knew he was probably a few months away from moving someplace else, perhaps nearer to the Stark Labs, but he couldn't let go of the old place as easily. As he ambled to the main door of the building, phantoms of his younger self running around in a plastic mask lighted a small happiness inside him. Memories were engraved in the walls and floors of the address, memories he wasn't (yet) stable enough to let go.

Used to the air and adrenaline of jumping from rooftops and onto windows, Peter found it odd to be walking in the streets at night. However claustrophobic the tall buildings made him feel, he did not want to put the mask on that night.

Peter was sure he had absently wandered about through the quiet streets for half an hour when he finally looked at a port. The night lights were reflected on the obscured surface of the water, and he did not hesitate to sit down and let his legs hover over the surface. 

_No stars tonight_

However peaceful the ambient may be, a deep loneliness was still engraved in his chest. He had earlier thought that the midnight walk might help, but the feeling was still iron hot present.

Peter inhaled deeply and scooped out the leather case from his pocket. 

“Hey, Edith.”

“Hello, Peter. What can I do for you tonight?”

His expression lightened with relaxation as the A.I. replied. He felt comfortable, even natural, with the technology at his disposal, even if he was in no necessity of a service. 

“Not really.” he replied, laying on his back while letting his trainers float above the water.

“Are you sure? You’re heart rate seems to have increased since the last two hours and your hands are notably shaking.”

“It’s okay, Edith.” Peter mumbled, slightly touched by the odd form of worry. “It was just a nightmare.”

“Would you like to talk about it? Medical research has proven that talking about your nightmare may relieve stress and anxiety.”

He chuckled lightly, but grimaced “Not really… I don’t remember it very well.”

Liar. He could still feel Tony’s crimson stare, his icy words, and the spinning circles of the nonexistence realities. He knew it was all in his imagination, based solely on the traumatic experiences with Mysterio, but the nightmare was still vivid in his mind.

“You are lying, Peter.” _Oh?_ “Your heartbeat has spiked again, and you probably would not be so terrified at the moment.”

“I guess you're right.”

“I’m always right.”

The reply send a small chuckle up his throat.

“Tony didn't cut back on your sass, did he?”

“Mr. Stark dedicated the best part of four years to create me especially for you, Peter.”

Suddenly the sassy reply was not as memorable as before, and the pressure behind his eyes threatened to let go. He might as well let it, for there was no one around to see him. Tears ran freely down his cheeks, quietly but for a long period of time, but the shaking in his hands seemed to lessen.

“I really miss him, Edith.”

The A.I. was silent for a few seconds.

“Would you like me to commence protocol M.W, Peter?”

_Huh?_

“I don’t know that one, Edith, sorry. I’ll just walk home. I’m just really tired and-”

“Beginning protocol M.W.”

There was a flash of light just as he saw a holographic slowly morph in front of him, as if it where a screen a few yards away. As Peter looked around in panic, he assured himself that no one was around to actually hear whatever the A.I. had done.

“Edith! What are you do-”

“This is test number one of my E.D.I.T.H. artificial intelligence, on a bright Monday afternoon and about two cups of coffee to go.”

The voice froze him in place for the second time that night. His eyes were locked into place at the hologram; a clean shaven, slightly crestfallen, slightly hopeful, Tony Stark. The man seemed to be looking straight into his soul, but perhaps his stare was just fixed on the camera.

“You’re looking just fine, aren't-”

The image started glitching and the last thing he saw was the irritated face of the billionaire glowing closer to the lense. The image went dark for a heartbeat before resetting, showing Tony again, but with a darker background.

“Test number twelve, and, even if my main concepts crumbled to shit, I think she’s not completely lost. Ten coffee cups to go today, but you shouldn't be. be. be-”

The camera seemed to be playing his image over and over and over until it turned pitch black. Peter was staring, ready to receive more information as to what the hell he was watching. He wiped away his snot and tears even if they kept running freely and staining the edge of his scarf.

The hologram came to life once again and a wearier yet extraordinarily cheerful Tony came to view.

“She’s pregnant! She’s pregnant, sweet hell, Pepper’s carrying our child!” the billionaire was bouncing around so much that Peter wondered if he knew the camera was recording. “Peter, when you watch this-” Oh, he knows. “Oh, Jesus Christ! You’re going to be a brother, well adoptive brother, whatever, you’re my child, you’re going to have a sister! I’m going to be a real father!”

Peter wetly laughed at a sparkling Stark for the next five minutes before the filming reset again. The next video was not nearly as lively, and showed a tiered, older version of the genius.

“Test number twenty-four… twenty-five? Everything is chaos around here, Pete. I hope I’m able to fix some of it if you ever come back. I think everyone's just…” his voice wavered for a second. “I know you’ll like Edith, Underoos, I know you will.”

Tears had never ceased as the time passed and Peter curled onto himself, watching the content with laughter and pain and excitement. The engineer detailed the recordings with small parts of his life, his depression, his love. Mostly, Tony seemed to be trying to cheer a future Peter up, whether it was with his sarcasm or small clips of a tiny, chubby Morgan running into the workshop.

And boy was it working.

“God, I need some strong vodka. Test number fifty-seven by the way. Need to fit in microscopic scanner.”

One smile.

“Number sixty. Meh, performance issues are always common in newborns. No, Pepper, I’m talking about… honey, Morgan is perfect. Pepper!”

One giggle.

“Christ, Spidey, I need to you pop into this household. Women are overpowering me.”

Laughter, sweet and vivid and comforting.

The video finally shut down and Peter supposed it was the end of the video, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion but biting down his grin. As he stood up one final image appeared; Tony, but instead of his working banter, he was staring directly into the camera.

“Hey Pete. I’ll either watch this with you in some hospital bed after you sneak me in some actual food instead of medical pudding…. or you’ll watch it alone.” Tony’s voice does not break or skip a beat, instead he offers a warm, genuine smile. “Whether you watch it with me or without me doesn't really matter, I just want you to know few essential facts.”

Peter sniffs, forgetting about the terrors of his daily life for one moment more, captivated by the words of Tony.

“Peter… I’m proud of you kid. As simple as that. I’m so, may Capsicle forgive my foul mouth, so fucking proud. Of everything that you are. And everything you will do. No matter what happens, I’m there for you. I love you so much, kiddo.”

The film ends, but does not fade away. Tony's sincere eyes stay locked on his puffy red ones as Peter sheds more tears, but these are filled with raw, beautiful emotion. He rubs his neck and hiccups, watching as the image finally disappears, leaving him watching the port and mirror like waters.

“Edith?”

“Yes, Peter?”

“Thank you. I… I really needed that. Thank you”

“You big softie.” Its Tony's voice in his ears, “Of course you needed it. Remember… even dead I’m the hero.”

**Author's Note:**

> Protocol M.W. stands for the title of the fic. I liked the idea of Tony recording little snippets for Peter just as Tadashi did in Big Hero 6. 
> 
> DON'T GET ME WRONG I do want to write something in witch Tony lives.  
> I probably will write a longer fic or more one-shots on the Avengers (If I don't die by the end of exams) after I finish updating other works and these fic gets more comments.
> 
> Any suggestions?
> 
> Stay safe everyone
> 
> x)


End file.
